


Once Upon a Time

by Loner234



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Minor Character Death, Older Characters, One Shot, Post-Canon, Post-War, Reminiscing, mentioned SanSan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26289559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loner234/pseuds/Loner234
Summary: "Once upon a time, Sansa had looked up to Cersei. She was everything Sansa thought a Queen should be. Strong, kind, smart, beautiful.  Sansa remembers the exact moment when she realized who Cersei was, and when she started hating her. She remembers when she thought she understood Cersei. Sansa remembers a lot of things. "Sansa thinks over the complex woman that was Cersei Lannister and the effect she has had on her life.
Kudos: 5





	Once Upon a Time

**Author's Note:**

> I feel that Cersei and Sansa had one of the most complicated relationships of the show, and wanted to explore it more. I hope you enjoy it!

Sansa brought a hand to her chest, trying to force her quick breaths to return to their usual pace. The Queen of Winterfell had woken up in the middle of the night to go to relieve herself. Whilst leaving the privy, she caught a glimpse of her face and for a small moment, she could’ve sworn it was the face of her.

Once upon a time, Sansa had looked up to Cersei. She was everything Sansa thought a Queen should be. She was stunning: perfect blonde hair that shined in the sunlight, sharp but regal features, and curves that Sansa could only pray for. Cersei wasn’t loud and boisterous like many of the Kings and Lords but still commanded respect. Her walk screamed royalty. No matter if in the throne room at King’s Landing or a guest at Winterfell’s dining table, people knew who she was.

Sansa thought her to be kind and strong. She remembered Cersei proposing her dad be pardoned for accusing Joffrey of being illegitimate and sent to the wall instead. She remembered the look of shame and sympathy on her face after he was beheaded. It was brief, and within seconds, Cersei had recomposed herself as if Joffrey had done nothing wrong, but it had still been there.

She also remembered the talks Cersei gave her. She saw past the brave face Sansa put on and told her it was okay not to love Joffrey. Cersei had told her the truth about sex. At night when in bed with her husband she hears, “Love no one but your children” echo. Throat tight, Sansa always pushes those memories to the back of her mind. It felt wrong that it was Cersei’s advice that Sansa thought of when she was conflicted. Not Old Nan’s, not her mother’s, but Cersei’s.

Sansa remembers the exact moment when she realized who Cersei was. It was in the vault during the Battle of Blackwater. Sansa, scared, looked at Cersei, only to find her drunk and belligerent. And as they all stared at one another in fright, wondering if each nervous breath would be their last, Cersei selfishly wallowed in her glass.

It was Sansa, a young girl, who had to comfort them. She was the one to tell them it would be alright. She was the one to suggest they pray or sing. And Sansa’s fear of defeat and death turned to anger. She was angry that she’d been so foolish. How dare Cersei call herself a Queen? She was nothing but a coward. A hearltess, mad coward who couldn’t stand up to her son and was stupid enough to sire bastards to a king.

But then one day, Sansa randomly found she no longer held the same hate in her heart for the woman. Sansa actually understood. At a young age, Cersei was made to marry a man who could never love her, just like Sansa was. It wasn’t that either of them didn’t want it (hell, all they’d ever dreamed about was marrying a handsome prince and becoming queens) but they’d been too naive to know what it was they were getting themselves into.

Nobody told them that it would be for alliance and nothing more. No one told Cersei that she would be forever competing with a ghost, or that her husband would drink constantly, or that he would rather spend his time with whores or hunting than with the kids he believed to be his own. Just as no one told Sansa that she would be beaten, burned, tore apart… Everyone had let them believe that there would be romance and love, that their King would be chivalrous and bring them gifts of flowers while writing poems about their beauty when they knew in their heart of hearts that it would never be like that. They let them believe that the stories were more than fantasies. They deceived them.

Sansa knew when she married her current husband that it was to strengthen the North. She had gotten them their independence and was the last Stark willing to lead, but she was still a woman and that made quite a few people nervous. William was rich and nice enough, and she thought there could one day hold some affection towards one another. She hoped that the fact that she got to choose him would mean something. It had to mean something. And it did, but not nearly enough.

Sansa had been surprised when on her morning walk around Winterfell she saw Sandor yelling at the little kids that ran around, beer in hand. She had been sure from their talk the night before that he would’ve gone to King’s Landing. Yet, there he was.

She knew it was stupid of them to sneak around, but she couldn’t help it. Everyone looked at her with pity, sorry for what she went through. When she finally told Arya all the little details of what Ramsey did to her, her very strong sister actually cried. But Sandor never felt sorry for her, saying that he’d seen much worse.

Her family practically abandoned her after the war. Jon went North, Arya set sail, and what was left of Bran went to King’s Landing. It was Sandor and Sandor alone who stayed with her.

They spoke freely, knowing the other wouldn’t judge them. Tucked behind closed doors and hidden under the cover of dark skies, Sandor was the most intimate man she had ever been with. He kissed every stain left by Ramsay and Joffrey, while she caressed the charred side of his face and whispered “beautiful”.

She had never felt as good as when she was with their first child. Whenever he’d see her pregnant belly he would smile, so wide that she’d lose her breath; The smile was impossibly similar to the one her father had given her mother whenever she was with child. When little Kate was born Sansa convinced her husband to hire Sandor as the babe’s personal guard. It was risky but worth it. The image of Sandor holding Kate for the first time and telling her stories that might have had too many swear words in them would forever be ingrained in her mind.

Sadly, Sandor got an infection when the child was but a year old and passed away shortly after. He was tossed in a shallow grave in the forest and it wasn’t until he had missed three days of duty that she was informed. Desperate for a reason to unsuspiciously visit his body, Sansa tried to get Arya to go to his grave and say a few words. But when asked, Arya just shrugged and said it was no use since he wouldn’t hear them. She had never wanted to punch her sister so badly.

Sansa had since then welcomed four more lives into the world. She loved all of them the same, but always felt a special shot of warmth radiate through her heart when she looked upon Kate’s face, the face of the only man she had ever loved. Cersei must’ve felt the same whenever she looked at her children.

And while watching them grow, she came to understand why Cersei had gone crazy. Sansa had grown those kids in her womb, spent hours of pain birthing them, nursed them as babies, and was there whenever one of them got sick or played a little too rough with each other. They were hers. She loved them with a fierceness so harsh that it hurt. She couldn’t help but think how she’d burn the world to the ground if anyone ever dared hurt them.

Sansa knew too well what happened to kids whose parents weren’t watchful enough. All three of Cersei’s had been taken right from under her nose and were now ashes in the wind. Sansa had lost two of her siblings, and the Starks that were left would never be the same. No, Sansa thought, That will not be their fate. Sansa’s children would be protected at all costs.

So she shook off whatever false images her eyes had seen. She was not Cersei. Never would she be Cersei.


End file.
